Grace to Grace, Part II

Last time I reflected on ways that the Lord has changed me to be more open to new ways of worshipping and new ways of conducting worship services. (Read it here!) When I first sat down to write, I didn’t intend to elaborate so much on that journey. My first thought was to rave about how awesome my new church is. That spurred me to consider how crazy it is that I think so highly of my church, considering my background. It represents in many ways how my values and comfort zones have shifted. But I return now to my original thought: how much I love Grace Christian Fellowship in Southwest Philly!

My new church, GCF, follows the same spirit of freedom and fluidity at Grace Midtown, so much so that a few Sundays ago Pastor James scrapped his sermon in the middle of service! The normal flow of service includes musical worship, scripture readings, greetings and announcements, selections from the choir, and the sermon. Although in that description it may seem formal, the atmosphere is not. It often feels more like a group of friends gathered for a weekly sports event than a service. They all know what’s going on, but they are all free to engage with it however and whenever they please. For instance, there are many services where we are never instructed to sit or stand. Folks just do what’s comfortable for them: sit, stand, clap, shout, dance, raise arms, shake fists, etc.

On this particular Sunday, we had spent ample time in musical worship, had heard from the choir the usual two times, and before Pastor James got up to speak, he invited one of the members to share her testimony. She shared that she was several years clean and sober, finished with her schooling (with straight As!), and completing her final training for a job in the medical field. She praised God for redeeming her, and the church celebrated her victories in song. As the music continued, she began to dance and march in place, overcome with triumphal joy at the victory.

Following the lead of the Spirit, the church continued to clap, dance, sing, and shout in celebration. If they were like me, they began to reflect on their own stories of redemption while celebrating with hers. As the praise rolled from song to impromptu song, I began to add up the time left in the remaining elements of the service—having not yet started the sermon, we probably had another hour left. And at that point we were an hour and a half into the service! Whereas a former Preston would have been annoyed at such a realization, the new Preston didn’t care and kept on clapping.

Pastor James, seeming to know my thoughts, soon reassured us that he wouldn’t be delivering his sermon. On that day, following the Lord’s leading meant celebrating a testimony. He later shared with our team that he started the church with a hope that people would be able to share deeply and honestly, and share difficult stories from their lives that that they had carried with shame and embarrassment. He said something like, “Most churches—my old church—would have shaken their heads at such a ‘shameful’ story, as if they didn’t have similar skeletons. But at Grace, we can celebrate prostitutes, addicts, and dealers being transformed.” Some—my former self included—may shake their heads at how our time was spent that Sunday. We didn’t even hear the sermon! Why would we go to church, except to learn from the Bible? Sure, it’s great to celebrate transformation…but for an hour?? Maybe these are valid concerns…maybe. But I think heaven is a little bit less like a Bible study and a little bit more like a rave, where for all of eternity we will celebrate transformation in Jesus’ name.

Praise God for helping me to appreciate a place with values different from those I grew up with! Praise God for transformation, both of the black, female drug addict from Southwest Philly and the white, male PK from North Charleston.